


Love Me Tender

by WoodlandGoddess1



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alien anatomy, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Fluff and Angst, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, Post-Finale, Soft Dom Kallus, Submissive Zeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodlandGoddess1/pseuds/WoodlandGoddess1
Summary: Zeb has never seen Kallus in a corset vest before.Attending the wedding was going to be harder than he thought.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Ketsu Onyo/Sabine Wren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 105





	Love Me Tender

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: "Person A has never seen Person B in a tuxedo/ball gown before," but tweaked so that Kallus could wear a fine corset vest instead. The prompt was generated via [prompt generator](https://prompts.neocities.org/)

Zeb ran a nervous glance over his reflection in the mirror, but he needn't have worried about his appearance. There wasn't a smudge in sight. His ceremonial armour was immaculate. The pieces gleamed brightly, reflecting the morning sunshine spilling through the open window of their hotel room. Momentarily, Zeb was transported to an earlier time, to a version of himself that hadn't known what was ahead of him and his people.

His breath stuttered in his chest.

But that time was finished.

Zeb was older now, and wiser, or at least he'd like to think so. He exhibited the change in his stance, in the breadth of his shoulders, and the upward tilt of his chin. He exhibited it in his gaze, in the hidden depths there, where experience and immense loss dwelled together. Zeb looked like he'd grown into his captaincy, finally, like the armour belonged on his frame at long last. 

Zeb studied his face and couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He'd trimmed his beard earlier that morning, letting the various split ends fall away, now that the war was over and he had the time to give his beard the care it deserved. He'd also combed his fur, removing the knots with painstaking care. It appeared smooth and sleek now, caressable. 

He'd wanted to look his best for the wedding.

The refresher door opened behind him a few minutes later, catching his attention.

Zeb turned immediately, but froze at the sight of Kallus, feeling his heart jump into his throat. His smile faltered. Warmth pooled just below his belly, reminding him of the longing he'd tried to ignore since he'd first wrapped an arm around the agent in a barren wasteland of ice and snow.

Kallus looked...stunning, with the gentle light from the refresher softening his familiar silhouette. His corset vest tapered his waist neatly, but did a wonderful job of highlighting the strength in his frame. It brought attention to the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles just visible through the white of his sleeves. His waistcoat was white, but with a sand trim between the panels, and where the silver hooks met down the centre of his torso. His trousers were the same sand colour, its material hugging his thighs in a manner that left little to the imagination. 

His gaze glowed like honey, and the white of his clothes made his various spots — his _freckles_ , Zeb reminded himself — stand out like constellations across his skin. It also highlighted the soft gold and light brown strands interspersed throughout his dark red hair.

Zeb had never seen him wear something like it before.

"Do I look okay," Kallus asked quietly, a surprising note of hesitation in his voice as he gazed at Zeb, brows furrowing, gaze dropping to note the absence of his smile before rising again. Worry flickered across his features. "It's the white, isn't it? I've heard claims that no one should wear white at weddings except the couples getting married..."

"No, ah, it's...fine." Zeb wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Or punch himself in the face. Or throw himself out an airlock. He sounded like a love-struck teenager, like a kit just developing his growl. Surely, even Kallus could hear his heart thundering wildly, and could smell the sweat building on his palms. Zeb cleared his throat and forced himself to offer a reassuring smile, adding, "Ya look fine."

Kallus beamed.

Zeb found himself staring, his mouth dry, wondering what it would be like to feel that beaming smile near his ear or just beneath the curve of his jaw. Or at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His ears twitched at the thought.

"You...ah...shaved yer face."

"It _is_ a wedding, Garazeb," Kallus replied with a hint of tartness, his chin rising. His gaze ignited with a familiar fire, reminding Zeb of hours spent training, the pair of them hot and sweaty, locked together in a battle of strength and will. His mutton chops framed his smirk to perfection. "I'm not going to show up looking like I just rolled out of bed after a week of drinking."

"I don't know. I thought it was a good look. Less stuffy," said Zeb, relieved to find himself on more familiar footing.

"You would." Kallus shook his head in fondness and brought attention to the one lock of hair that hadn't been swept back into place with gel. The curling lock of hair shifted with his movements. A moment later, Kallus abandoned the doorway, coming closer and stepping around him to retrieve his cane — wooden and ornate, and covered in intricate carvings, it had been a gift from Chava the Wise when Kallus first arrived on Lira San after the war — from his bed. In passing, Kallus teased him with the scent of something soft and a little spicy, something enticing, and Zeb almost turned to follow it with his nose. "We should get going. We don't want to be late."

The pair of them headed for the lobby, where other guests were gathering already; most faces were familiar. Most had fought with the rebellion at one point or another and Zeb had either worked with them closely, or seen them in passing in the mess hall or on the battlefield.

Zeb, however, wasn't interested in most of them.

"Uncle Zeb!"

"Hey, little man!" Zeb grinned as Jacen ducked in and around peoples' legs in order to reach them and crouched to swing him into his arms. Small arms flung themselves around his neck as Zeb nuzzled green hair affectionately, a quiet purr rumbling up from his chest. "I missed ya so much!"

"I missed you too!"

Zeb almost snorted in amusement when he heard the kid gargling his spit in an attempt to replicate his purring before smushing his small face against his cheek. His heart swelling, Zeb squeezed Jacen closer for a moment before setting him down and watching him run into Kallus' legs enthusiastically, earning a fond smile and a gentle pat on the head from the reserved man. 

"Nice to see some things haven't changed."

Zeb looked up to see Hera approaching, smiling warmly, radiant in a chocolate dress that flared from her waist and ended around her knees. A silken sash the colour of straw wrapped around her waist neatly, tied with a bow. Bands in the same hue decorated her lekku.

"Hera, you look ravishing," Kallus said pleasantly, greeting her with a smile.

"High praise from a man dressed like that." Hera smiled despite the teasing note in her voice, her hand coming to rest against green hair as Jacen returned to her side. She glanced at Zeb, gaze sparkling. "You let him out of the room like that?"

"Stop jokin' around. I'm not his keeper, ya know," Zeb said quickly, his fur rippling with no small amount of embarrassment. He refrained from raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. Just about. And he didn't dare look at Kallus to see how he'd reacted to the remark from their mutual friend and former captain. "We're just friends."

"Indeed." 

Zeb turned his head to look at Kallus then and blinked to see him disappearing, slipping through the nearest set of double doors without even a word of farewell. His heart panged to see him gone. Briefly, he thought about following, about catching his wrist and opening up, confessing the feelings weighing him down.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't do that. 

Zeb couldn't imagine Kallus returned his feelings, his interest. Not after so much Imperial propaganda and conditioning. Kallus had shaken so much of it away, but some things still lingered. And Zeb feared a shred of xenophobia might be one of them. Not enough to look down on Hera or Jacen…but enough for Kallus to keep his distance from Zeb, and from other aliens that showed an interest.

"It's okay, Uncle Zeb," Jacen said sagely, his fingers curling around a fistful of Hera's dress. His blue gaze shined brightly, highlighted above his dark suit. "Uncle Fenn said that Auntie Sabine and Auntie Ketsu were just gals being pals before I was born. Now we're gonna watch them get married! Maybe you and Uncle Alex are gals being pals right now!"

Zeb almost choked on his own tongue.

Hera hid a grin behind her hand and turned away, slender shoulders quaking.

Zeb didn't have a chance to correct Jacen before Tristan Wren and one or two of his Mandalorian brethren started ushering them through the doors Kallus had disappeared through already, wearing handsome suits in lieu of their beskar armour. He shook his head and headed through quickly, locating Kallus in an instant and making a beeline for him immediately, settling down beside him before someone else could.

Kallus didn't acknowledge him except for the tightening of his hand around his cane.

"I'm sorry," Zeb said quietly, looking askance at him. He couldn't help fiddling with the straps of his vambrace as nervous serpents writhed inside him. "Ya know Hera was just teasin'. She knows we aren't involved. Not like that."

Kallus hummed softly, but said nothing.

"And I'm sorry," Zeb couldn't help adding miserably, his ears drooping, "if comments like that make ya uncomfortable. I keep tellin' people it isn't like that between us. Ya still have a lot of hang ups from bein' an Imperial before and...and I know I'm not most peoples' cup of caf. I know I'm too alien."

Kallus inhaled sharply, and his grip tightened so hard that Zeb could almost hear his joints straining with effort. He watched his knuckles whiten. It was a wonder the fine wood didn't snap beneath the increasing pressure.

Zeb dropped his gaze to his shining greaves, realising he'd said too much in an instant.

"Garazeb," Kallus said softly, almost hesitantly, unable to look at him. Slowly, his grip on his cane eased. Without warning, Kallus reached out and rested his hand on his thigh lightly, surprising Zeb with the show of tenderness. The warmth of his touch soothed Zeb between one heartbeat and the next as Kallus added gently, "I...we'll talk later. I promise. This isn't the time or place for such things. Right now, we should focus on the happiness of our friends. Alright?"

"Alright."

Finally, Kallus turned his head and looked at Zeb, his expression tender. Something indecipherable flickered in his gaze for a moment.

Zeb swallowed thickly, unable to prevent a nervous smile from curling his lips at the sight. Butterflies materialised in his belly, and began fluttering persistently, the sensation almost as uncomfortable as the writhing serpents he'd experienced earlier.

Kallus offered a warm smile in return.

Zeb felt his breath catch in his chest — as usual. He'd been weak for that smile for so long. It wasn't hard to remember the first moment he'd seen it. It hadn't been long after losing Chopper Base, when Kallus was still hiding himself away, and all Zeb had done was give him a ration bar and ask if he'd been treated. And Kallus had surprised him with that smile as he held the ration bar in his bruised hands, fingers still shaking from the adrenaline crash.

Zeb wrestled with the urge to cover the hand resting on his thigh with his own. He wrestled with the urge to tangle their fingers together, as though the pair of them were nothing more than teenagers dancing around each other, but decided against it in the end. Zeb didn't want that smile to disappear.

Not again.

Not because of something he'd said or done.

No, Zeb wanted to hold that smile in his chest and never let go.

Quickly, the seats around them began filling with former rebels and Mandalorians, an excited hum of conversation settling over the growing crowd. His ears twitched and rotated curiously, catching snippets of conversation that floated over the general din. 

Zeb caught the sound of running feet and wasn't surprised when Jacen clambered up into the seat beside him excitedly, a grin blooming on his small face. He couldn't help reaching out and ruffling his hair, a fond chuckle escaping him when Jacen giggled and batted at his hand before squirming onto his lap instead. Zeb wrapped his arms around Jacen easily, securing him in place.

Hera joined them a few moments later, settling down beside Zeb fluidly, her skirts wrinkling before she smoothed the material with gentle hands. Finally, she opened her small clutch bag and pulled out a small holo-device — a little worn from use, but still serviceable. Hera activated the device and set it down beside her, a faint blue holophoto of Kanan materialising at her side. 

Zeb felt his heart twist when he saw it. But his mouth curled around a small smile all the same. Of course, Hera would bring something of Kanan to the wedding, even if he couldn't be with them himself. Sabine was their daughter in all but blood. Hera wouldn't deprive Sabine of the chance to have Kanan at the wedding in some fashion.

Instinctively, Zeb reached out and captured her hand lightly, squeezing. He wasn't surprised when Hera squeezed his hand in return. She still missed Kanan. All of them did — but his absence affected Hera the most. Normally, Hera would be holding hands with Chopper, but Sabine had surprised them all when she'd asked Chopper to bring the rings up the aisle.

And so, Zeb was left to comfort Hera. 

Not that he minded. 

Even if Hera and Kanan hadn't helped him pick up the pieces of himself after he'd failed his people, Zeb would have been there for her during her grief all the same. He'd still have been the one to knock on her door when he'd heard her tearing up, faced with the absence — the _emptiness_ — when she'd retired for the night. He'd still have been the one to crawl into her bed and hold her, and just let her tears soak into his fur. He'd still have let her grip fistfuls of his fur until it hurt. And he'd still have made her breakfast in the morning, and brought it to her, and been there for her as she pulled the pieces of herself back together before continuing to work to bring the Empire down.

It was what friends were for, after all.

Even Kallus had helped in the months following Kanan's passing. He'd helped through dragging Hera out onto the training field and letting her vent her frustrations out through her fists, her legs, having sensed the impending explosion coming. He'd helped through sourcing nappies, and other vital supplies, when Hera confessed that she was pregnant. He'd even been the one to race across the base in the middle of the night to get snacks whenever Hera had a craving.

Zeb couldn't help smiling, remembering one night where Kallus was almost out of his mind with stress because he couldn't find what Hera wanted. He remembered the warm laugh that rumbled up from his belly, amused and fond. He remembered grabbing Kallus' shoulder and steering him onto the _Ghost_ and into the galley, where Zeb had stashed a small crate of the desired items, knowing the cravings could hit even while the crew were on a mission. And Zeb remembered seeing Kallus' shoulders slump with relief seconds before the man hugged him tightly, surprising him immensely, but he'd withdrawn before Zeb could even think to hug him back. 

Zeb swallowed thickly, remembering the warm press of his body, how Kallus seemed to slot against him just right — for one breath-taking, perfect moment. He remembered the strength in those arms, the welcome heat of his hands through his battlesuit. He remembered the tickle of soft hair against his cheek. He remembered how soft Kallus felt against him — so unlike the chiselled frame he'd felt on that frozen moon. Being a rebel had softened Kallus, had padded his muscles with an inch or so of fat.

Kallus had never been ugly, of course, but Zeb felt Kallus had grown more and more attractive the longer he remained on base. His leanness before hadn't been healthy; it had spoken of a diet too controlled, too rigid, reduced to the bare necessities. It spoke of poor self-care and even poorer care from his superiors.

It was fine for a short skirmish.

But a prolonged battle?

No. Stores of fat were a requirement for a warrior.

Too easily, Zeb could remember how Kallus lit up when he stepped into the mess hall on Yavin 4 for the first time. He could remember the surprise and delight on his face as the scents of various fresh foods carried over the heads of chatting rebels. Not to mention the bounce in his step as Kallus fetched a bowl of soup and a bread roll the length of his forearm. Zeb could remember him leaning over his soup, lashes fluttering as he just inhaled the scent for a moment.

“Is the soup that impressive,” Zeb hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking, the ridges of his brows rising with his own surprise.

“Apologies,” Kallus had muttered as he’d glanced up, his sharp cheeks turning a faint pink above his mutton chops. He’d cradled the bowl of soup with both hands, soaking up its warmth through his fingers, his gaze falling to watch the curling steam. A small smile had danced across his mouth. “I just...haven’t seen real food in so long. Not since I left Coruscant. Usually, we were just given ration bars and protein shakes. This...this is more than I ever expected to see here, if I’m honest.”

Zeb had stared at him in shock before grousing, “No wonder Imperials keep defectin’, if ya aren’t even bein’ fed right. Food is good for the soul!”

“Yes,” Kallus had breathed quietly, moving to cut into his bread roll and slather it with butter, “I rather think it is. I imagine that’s the reason we were never given real food. The Empire wanted us to be soulless, to be nothing more than obedient cogs in the machine, too focused on work to think or question what was happening around us. What we were doing, what we were complicit in.”

“Probably,” Zeb had agreed without much thought. He hadn’t been listening too closely, too focused on what Kallus was _doing_. He’d just watched him dunk one half of the bread roll into the soup, swirling it around, wetting the crackling butt and melting the butter a fraction. He’d watched him sigh and moan softly, lashes fluttering, mouth full of bread. Zeb had almost been able to imagine his toes curling in his boots and that had been more than he’d been able to handle. “Uh. I should...ah...get goin’. Need to do a perimeter check.”

“You just returned from a perimeter check…”

“Yeah. Well. Sometimes I like to do two,” Zeb had said quickly, doing his best to keep his fur from rippling with embarrassment. He’d risen from his chair before hesitating, asking, “You’ll be alright here?” 

“With all this food? Absolutely,” Kallus had reassured him. “I’ll be a model citizen.” 

Zeb smiled at the memory, his chest full of warmth. He couldn’t help glancing at the man beside him now, wondering how eager he was to partake in the meal after the wedding, how eager he was to sample the different textures, scents, and flavours that Mandalorian kitchens could provide. His ears twitched and his heart jumped into his throat when Kallus looked askance at him too, plush lips curling, and a single brow rising as he murmured quietly, “Yes?”

“Nothin’.” Zeb shook his head. But his smile remained. “You look happy, is all.”

“I am happy,” Kallus answered easily, his smile deepening, brightening his whole face. His strong fingers caressed the head of his cane lightly, almost absently, and his gaze dropped to admire the intricate carvings. “I can’t think of a reason not to be. You’re here, and I’m here, and our friends are celebrating something momentous. I can’t think of a better place to be than right here.” 

Zeb opened his mouth to respond...but closed it again with a sheepish smile as a sudden hush fell over the crowd. He glanced over his shoulder to see someone settling at the piano in the rear left corner, skirts rustling, fingers spreading to caress the keys. It wasn’t long until music was swelling, soft and warm and beautiful as it filled the room. Zeb couldn’t help sighing, his ears wiggling, the music pleasant. 

And then Chopper and AP-Five came down the aisle. The former moved with rings and a plump cushion balanced on his dome and the latter walked slowly, tossing flower petals from a basket into the air.

Zeb almost snorted with amusement when he heard the long stream of disgruntled grumbling from AP-Five.

After the droids, came the bridesmen.

It was a relief to see Ezra in person and not just a holophoto sitting on a chair, memorialising his presence in their lives, his importance in their hearts. Nothing had punched Zeb in the chest quite like the holotransmission of Sabine sobbing openly, gasping through her tears, “I found him! Zeb, I found him!”

Zeb hadn’t been able to contain his joy, hadn’t been able to stop himself from sprinting up the stairs and barging into Kallus’ room to grab his hand. He hadn’t even heard Kallus’ asking what was happening as he’d pulled the man downstairs with such haste, dragging him over to the holotransmitter in the living room. He’d been so full of hope and happiness that he hadn’t even realised he’d still been holding Kallus’ hand until Ezra coughed awkwardly, his tired gaze dropping to focus on the tangle of their fingers. Zeb had ripped his hand free immediately, his fur rippling, unable to look at either of them for a moment. 

But none of that mattered now.

Ezra was safe and sound and _home_. 

Kallus was sitting at his side and hoped to talk to him later, after the festivities.

Jacen was a warm and welcome weight in his lap, reminding him of all the wonderful things he’d fought so hard for. 

And his kid sister was getting married to the love of her life.

Few things could bring his mood down now.

Zeb focused on the ceremony, on the procession of the bridesmen up the aisle.

Ezra had filled out since he’d led the mission to liberate Lothal. Compared to Zeb, his kid brother was still a slip of a thing, but it was clear that his time in the Unknown Regions had been a challenge to his body, forcing him to build muscle. That it had changed him. Ezra seemed more mature, more centred — at peace with himself. But a glimmer of his old self still sparkled in his gaze when he grinned at his family, his friends. His long hair was drawn back and wound into a tight braid that hung down the middle of his back. His once unkempt beard had been trimmed down to a small goatee and a moustache, which left him looking far more distinguished than he ought to be.

It was strange to see him like this when Zeb still had that scrawny, almost volatile image of Ezra in his head after all this time. But it wasn’t so strange to see him walking alongside Hondo Ohnaka — who, for some unfathomable reason, Ketsu had chosen for her bridesman.

Hondo was...Hondo. He was dressed extravagantly, as though he were still the powerful pirate he was during the Clone Wars. (Zeb had seen his fair share of holophotos, the old pirate showing them off without bothering to ask whether Zeb even gave a shit. His eye twitched even now, remembering how much he _didn’t_ give a shit.) Hondo paraded down the aisle as though it were _his_ wedding, _his_ celebration. 

“I want to punch him.”

“Me too,” whispered Zeb, sneaking another glance at Kallus, grinning. The smile that Kallus gave him in return was worth the distraction. Kallus’ gaze lingered on him for a moment or so before drifting away, taking his breath with it. His heart thumping, Zeb tried to focus on the ceremony, but found it hard to concentrate with that lingering glance burned into his mind. 

Briefly, his mind went where it shouldn’t — to Kallus sprawling luxuriously, his skin bare and inviting, those long fingers curling around his pillow, and that lingering gaze drawing Zeb deeper into their hotel room. To strong thighs wrapping around his waist and gentle teeth nipping at his ear, lips caressing the sensitive skin there. To sensuous hands following the curve of his spine and bracing beneath his shoulder blades, holding him close, breath hot and desperate as Zeb rolled his hips.

Zeb squeezed his lashes against his cheeks and swallowed the rumbling growl of approval that threatened to rise. He couldn’t think like that. Not now. Not with Jacen sitting on his lap and Hera sitting beside him. Not with witnesses. Thoughts like that were for the confines of his bed or the refresher, where no one could see him go weak at the knees. Such thoughts weren’t for weddings, of all places, and Zeb forced himself to think of Chava naked to shake himself out of his inappropriate distraction.

Sabine and Ketsu came down the aisle together, arms interlocking, their vibrant suits complimenting the other. Ketsu looked the same as always, though older and perhaps wiser, but Sabine....Sabine had changed so much. She’d grown her hair out over the last twelve months or so, and white flowers were woven into her braided hair, the warm reds of which glowed in the light spilling in through the windows. Sabine was beaming, her smile watery, and it grew even more so the closer she and Ketsu came to the altar. 

Finally, the pair of them stood facing each other, hands clasped tight as a Mandalorian minister stepped forward to see them married. Honestly, it was one of the shortest weddings Zeb had ever been to, with little pomp and fanfare, and Sabine and Ketsu were soon kissing, the entire congregation cheering as Ketsu swept her off her feet and twirled her around.

Zeb glanced over his shoulder at the sound of soft sniffling and blinked in surprise at the sight of Fenn Rau dashing a quick arm across his face. He almost said something, almost started to tease, but the gentle hand that captured his own distracted him in an instant. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight of Kallus smiling wildly, tears sliding straight down into his mutton chops, as though the man couldn’t imagine something more wonderful than the union happening right in front of them. Zeb couldn’t help squeezing his hand.

Kallus squeezed right back. 

But their hands soon drifted apart as the congregation rose to their feet to watch Sabine and Ketsu walk back down the aisle, holding hands, smiling and laughing as a cascade of unexpected confetti rained down from overhead.

Slowly, the congregation followed the married couple, filtering out through the double doors. Zeb and the others remained close to each other, moving as a group, with Jacen holding his hand tight and almost bouncing with excitement. Hera walked ahead slightly, and Kallus remained closer to Zeb, falling into step beside him with familiar ease. 

It wasn’t long until the guests were being steered into the banquet hall.

The Spectres were seated at one round table, with the exception of Ezra and Sabine, who were both at the head table — along with Sabine’s parents and Hondo, and a couple of people that Zeb didn’t recognise in the least. He had to assume it was Ketsu’s parents. Surprisingly, Rau was also seated with the Spectres, along with Rex and Ahsoka.

Zeb was a little disappointed to find Jacen seated between Hera and Rau rather than Hera and himself. But he pushed the thought aside. He knew he couldn’t hog his attention for the entire event. It was more than fair that the other people that cared about Jacen would get to spend time with him over the course of the festivities. And Zeb didn’t mind where he’d been seated himself — between Rex and Kallus, whose cane rested against the table between them. 

Almost immediately, Kallus had his head buried in the menu.

Zeb couldn’t help the fond smile that curled his lips when the man hummed thoughtfully, his brow furrowing, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He watched as those long fingers caressed the menu idly, almost absently, unaware of how it affected Zeb.

“See somethin’ interestin’?”

“Yes,” Kallus answered pleasantly, closing the menu as a small smile curled his lips. He turned to face Zeb, his gaze sparkling with enthusiasm. “I’m going to have the fish. The squid ink risotto sounds intriguing.”

“What about the starter and dessert?”

“Soup and sorbet — nice and light.” Kallus chuckled. “The fish is the main event tonight.” 

Zeb plucked the menu from his hands and popped it open for himself.

It wasn’t a surprise when Kallus leaned closer, curious about his choices; it wasn’t the first time he and Kallus had dined together in a restaurant and it wouldn’t be the last. Kallus loved food too much to go without exploring the various cuisines available in a given area. Within the first week of landing on Lira San after the war, Kallus had dragged him to more restaurants than he could name.

He’d loved it.

He’d loved watching Kallus’ face light up as Zeb translated the menus for him — with minor difficulty, as there had been different evolutions of language on Lasan and Lira San that took time for Zeb to learn. He’d loved watching him lean over each meal and inhale the various scents slowly, lashes fluttering. He’d loved watching him spear tender vegetables and morsels of meat with his fork and pop them into his mouth with a soft moan of appreciation. 

Really, watching Kallus appreciate food was like watching the man have a love affair and Zeb would never grow tired of it. He hoped to watch Kallus have a love affair with food until he succumbed to old age. It would be a soft note to end his life on and Zeb felt he deserved such softness after all of the hardship the Ashla had thrown at him over the years. 

"I'm goin' to have the steak."

"I expected nothing less," Kallus said drily, the corner of his mouth quirking. 

"Might steal some of yers, though." Zeb flashed a grin and wasn't surprised when Kallus arched a familiar brow, the expression sharp and almost caustic, though a hint of warmth lingered in his gaze to soften it. It was an old conversation — one had whenever the pair of them dined at a restaurant together. Usually, it ended with Kallus attempting to fend him off with his fork and failing, though a smile filled with amusement and fondness never failed to make an appearance. Zeb shifted enough to rest an arm on Kallus' chair and leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a volume that seemed far more private, murmuring, "I'd love to taste that risotto."

Zeb couldn't help dropping his gaze, a brief thought of licking the taste from those plump, inviting lips flickering through his mind. He couldn't help wondering what it would be like to cradle that face he cherished in both hands and kiss Kallus right there at the table, witnesses be damned. He couldn't help wondering what sounds Kallus would make, whether those strong hands would reach for him and pull him closer. His ears twitched at the thought and then twitched again when he lifted his gaze to see Kallus doing the same, pupils widening. Zeb couldn't stop the low, rumbling growl that escaped him as something hot curled tight in his gut. 

Kallus' breath stuttered — just loud enough for Zeb to catch. His lips parted and a soft hint of pink appeared above those mutton chops. And then he cleared his throat and turned away, knocking his cane over in the process, a muffled curse escaping him.

"I'll get it."

"You don't have to —"

"I know, but I want to. I always want to help you."

Zeb ducked down quickly, that tight heat in his gut threatening to turn into something else — something closer to giddiness, as though he were a kit dealing with his first crush. It took an immense effort to keep it from escaping, to keep himself from breaking down into chuckles as he realised he'd been wrong all along. 

He and Kallus weren't just friends. There was something else there. Something he hadn't thought he'd ever see. Certainly, he knew Kallus cared about him strongly, and knew Kallus wished to speak to him after the festivities, but he'd never thought he'd see the man appreciate him sexually, or respond to his own interest in such an obvious fashion.

Zeb grabbed the cane and almost hit his head off the table when soft fabric brushed against the tip of his ear as Kallus shifted in his seat. He glanced up to see Kallus staring, attention focused on his ear, surprised and intrigued. Zeb felt his fur ripple with embarrassment even as his ears twitched under the attention.

Kallus' lips quirked around a small smile.

Zeb swallowed thickly; the man was going to be the death of him and what a death it would be. He rose carefully, offering the cane. Long fingers brushed against his own briefly, a welcome tease that made his heart thunder in his chest. Zeb might have said something, but for the sudden and rather unwelcome appearance of the waiter, who came to take their drink orders.

A long, tall drink of Alexsandr Kallus wasn't an appropriate answer.

But Zeb was too muddled to think of something else.

Fortunately, Kallus chose that moment to step in and order something for the pair of them. A Besalisk ale — the name of which sounded rough and guttural on Kallus' tongue. Kallus spoke with the ease of familiarity, and it left Zeb wondering just how skilled he was at languages. 

It left him wondering what Kallus might whisper and gasp into his ear later, once he'd seduced the man into his bed. (And he _would_ seduce him now that he knew his advances weren’t unwanted.) Whether he'd even understand them. And whether his understanding even mattered. Surely, nothing would matter except the desperate hands clutching at him and the eager legs spreading for him. 

Of course, if Zeb did his job correctly, Kallus wouldn't be coherent enough to speak at all. It had been a while since he'd last slept with someone, but Zeb knew such skills didn't fade. And he'd been _good_.

Far too easily, Zeb could imagine Kallus propped up on his knees in front of him and groaning, head buried in the pillows as Zeb put his tongue to good use. He could imagine gripping that firm backside with both hands, his claws teasing bare skin and raising faint red lines. He could imagine the cant of those strong hips, the eager push back against his face as Kallus scrabbled at the bedclothes with frantic hands. And he could imagine Kallus releasing a ragged cry, his strong frame tensing as Zeb brushed that sensitive bundle of nerves with a sweep of his long, textured tongue.

Zeb had lost count of how often he'd imagined that backside pressed against his face during the war, though his fantasies used to involve Kallus' cluttered desk in the Intelligence Division back then. He'd lost count of how often he'd walked into Intelligence to find Kallus leaning over his desk — taking one last look at one file or another before shutting down his console, knowing that Zeb wouldn't hesitate to drag him out of there and force him to take some rest. But in those few moments before Kallus turned from his console, Zeb would have the perfect view: fine slacks or dark denim hugging that firm backside, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a scattering of freckles across his lower back.

Zeb chuckled to himself as he remembered how often he'd have to bite his own hand in an attempt to cool his head. How often he'd tasted his own blood because he'd bitten too hard without thinking. How often he'd tried to hide his hand from view and failed to do so in time, Kallus' sharp gaze zeroing in on the marks in an instant. How often he'd seen concern flicker across those familiar features before Kallus forced him to sit down in one of the vacant chairs and treated the marks.

Kallus had never asked how he'd got them.

Zeb had never told him. 

Perhaps he hadn't needed to.

Kallus was a sharp, observant man. It had been his job to notice things. Most likely, he'd noticed how Zeb acted around him before Zeb even realised what his feelings for the man were. Most likely, Kallus had known how Zeb felt all along.

The mere thought brought his good humour to an end.

Zeb stared down at the table, unable to stop his smile from falling, unable to stop his ears from drooping. If Kallus had known about his feelings all along, there had to be a reason that he'd kept silent. That he'd kept his distance for so long. His fears from earlier came right back. Suddenly, Zeb wasn't hungry, wasn't thirsty, and didn't want to be there. 

"I need some air."

"Are you okay," Kallus asked quietly, reaching for him at once as Zeb pushed his chair back and climbed to his feet. Zeb stepped away, ensuring those long fingers never reached him. Kallus faltered immediately, his gaze dimming in an instant. Those long fingers curled around nothing. "Garazeb," Kallus said quietly, a note of hesitance in his voice as that familiar concerned expression made an appearance. " _Are you okay_?"

_No_.

"Yeah. I'm fine. S'just a bit too noisy," Zeb said lamely, wanting to punch himself for how stupid that sounded. "Ya know what I want. Order it for me if I'm not back in time."

"But what about the rest —"

"Just pick somethin'!"

A knot of regret formed in his throat when Kallus flinched at the sharp tone. 

Zeb turned and made a quick escape, slipping out through the doors that led to the gardens outside. He kept going until no one could see him before collapsing onto the nearest stone bench. Hiding his face in his hands was instinctive. Zeb wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to a moment when he and Kallus were happy, to a moment before he'd flirted with Kallus over some stupid risotto. Before he'd deluded himself into thinking Kallus might want him back. Zeb couldn't stop a whine from escaping him. 

Zeb didn't know how long he'd been hiding before Hera joined him on the bench.

"I love him." The words were out before Zeb could stop them. Hearing them out loud was like a knife to his chest. It buried itself deep and twisted hard. It took a moment to realise his vision was blurring, to realise he could smell his own tears forming. Zeb dashed the back of one hand across his face before looking at Hera helplessly, unable to stop himself from adding raggedly, "But I don't think he loves me back."

"You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I do."

"I meant about _him_. How _he_ feels." Hera captured his hand and held it between both of hers, as she often had in the past when his emotions got the better of him. When tears made an appearance and wouldn't leave him alone. "You mean the world to him. Even Kanan could see that."

"I know he cares," Zeb answered. He bowed his head. "But that doesn't mean he loves me. It doesn't mean he wants me how I want him. For a minute there, I thought he did...but…"

"But?"

"But then I realised he must've known how I felt all along. He isn't stupid."

"That's debatable," Hera muttered under her breath.

Zeb could almost hear the small smile dancing across her lips.

Hera shook her head and squeezed his hand to bring his gaze — his attention — back to her. "Zeb, honey, you've loved him for a long time and knew it for almost as long. I saw it. We all saw it. But you never said a word to him about it. You live together, but remain apart. You've never made a move. Why? Why keep _your_ distance?"

"Because I didn't think he'd ever want me!" His answer began as a snarl and ended as a whine as his ears drooped low, perhaps lower than ever before. "Because I'm an alien and he was an Imperial. Because I thought bein' his friend was as close as I'd ever get to him!" 

Hera gazed at him and said nothing, lips pressed in a thin line. But her gaze was patient and full of expectation. 

Zeb stared right back at her for a long moment before something clicked inside his head and he gasped sharply, "Ya think he feels like that too? Like he can't ever get closer to me than he is now?"

"I think he continues to blame himself for things he can't change — no matter how much he wishes he could change them. And I also think he feels like he did something wrong," Hera said quietly, her gaze softening with sadness. She stroked the back of his hand. "And I don't blame him. You lied to his face and then fled from him. He knows that. He was...quite upset about it. He tried to hide how upset he was, but he can't hide his feelings from me. Not since he became a member of our crew and I had a chance to get to know him. I know how to read him."

Zeb bowed his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. That knot of regret he'd experienced earlier came right back and then proceeded to double in size. It threatened to choke him.

Hera moved one of her hands to his back and stroked gently, right between his shoulder blades, before adding, "Take a few minutes to calm down and then come back to the table. Show him that there isn't a fight brewing, that there isn't something to stress over."

"Ya must think I'm an idiot."

"No." Hera's hand moved to the back of his head now, her nails scraping against his scalp in a reassuring fashion. "I think personal circumstances can make it a lot harder to make scary, difficult decisions when it comes to the people we care about. Being open about how we feel isn't easy, Zeb, but no one has forever."

Hera gave his scalp one final scrape and then left him to pull himself together.

_No_ , Zeb thought as he remembered Kanan. Remembered how his death left Hera numb with shock until the dam broke and all that heartbreak rushed in to devastate her. _No one does have forever._

Tonight.

He was going to make his move tonight.

He had to. 

But not now. Not during dinner. No, no, he would wait until later. He would wait until music filled the banquet hall and people left their seats to start dancing. He'd find the right moment and then he'd pull Kallus close, right into his arms, for a slow waltz. Something that didn't require a huge amount of concentration. Because Zeb had no intention of giving more attention to the dance than to the man in his arms — the love of his life. And when Kallus was soft with surprise, and perhaps even warm with happiness, Zeb would make his move at long last.

His heart thumped in his chest at the thought of kissing Kallus right there on the dance floor, right in front of friends and family, making his intentions more than clear. His heart tried to punch a hole through his chest at the thought of Kallus kissing him back. Not to mention the thought of taking his hand and leading him back up to their hotel room.

Determined and almost giddy, Zeb rose from the bench and marched back into the banquet hall to see Kallus staring into his pint and tapping an incessant pattern against the tabletop with his fingertip. The tension in his frame was obvious. Zeb didn't hesitate to close the distance between them and reclaim his seat.

Kallus didn't look at him.

But his frame wound even tighter.

"I'm sorry," Zeb said quietly, snaring his hand at once and stopping the tapping in one smooth motion. He squeezed gently, though he wanted nothing more than to lace their fingers together. "For snappin' and for leavin' like that. Ya didn't deserve it."

"You don't have to apologise."

"I do," Zeb insisted firmly, his voice lowering a fraction. He shifted closer, careful not to knock the cane over again. Kallus did look at him then and his breath almost caught in his chest at how much unspoken fear shined in that gaze. The man was doing a poor job of hiding it from him. "I was bein' stupid. I was afraid of somethin' and I lashed out. I shouldn't have."

"Afraid?" Kallus' brow furrowed in concern. "Afraid of what?"

"It doesn't matter. It's no longer relevant."

Zeb shook his head. A little helplessly, he gazed at Kallus, wanting to spill his heart out on the table and knowing he couldn’t. Not until later. Zeb settled for seizing the back of Kallus' head with a gentle hand and tugging him closer, pressing their brows together. It was a gesture that Kallus had once bestowed on him after raising the shield during their infiltration of Lothal so long ago, after threatening to throttle him for giving Kallus the fright of his life.

Kallus inhaled sharply, recognising the gesture in an instant.

"Garazeb —"

"Don't think about it." Zeb smiled as Kallus huffed. His voice lowered even further, but warmed with affection and encouragement. "Let's just have fun tonight. No more arguments. No more bad memories. No more sad thoughts. Just us bein' happy, and havin' a great time together. Can we do that?"

"Yes," Kallus breathed and Zeb almost shivered when his warm breath ghosted across his lips, reminding him of just how close the pair of them were. Just how simple it would be to tilt his head and capture those tempting lips in a kiss. Being so close to him was sweet torture and Zeb would never trade it for the galaxy, not ever. "Yes, we can do that. I'd like nothing more."

_You'd like a lot more,_ Zeb couldn't help thinking as he pressed just a fraction closer before retreating, observing Kallus' face. He noted the warmth in his cheeks and the daze in his expression. He noted how Kallus' hand lingered in his grasp, reluctant to pull away, to raise that barrier once again. Zeb let his own hand linger, unable to stop himself from stroking the back of Kallus' hand with his thumb. _And so would I_.

Zeb and Kallus might have continued to sit so close together, to gaze at each other, but for the arrival of the first course. Finally, Kallus' hand slipped away, leaving his own feeling cold and bereft. 

As promised to each other, Zeb and Kallus focused on the festivities, on returning to that carefree attitude from before. It wasn't long until their distress from earlier seemed like a distant memory, and not something that risked throwing a spanner in such a momentous occasion.

Hours passed with warm laughter and teasing conversation shared between the Spectres, until the meal came to an end and the band started setting up at the far end of the banquet hall. A pleasant din settled over the room as guests bought drinks at the bar and moved between tables, reacquainting themselves with old friends and making new ones in the process.

Zeb couldn't help noticing that Kallus didn't drink heavily, unlike some rebels in the room. No, he drank just enough to relax. Just enough to become more tactile with those around him. At one point in the evening, Kallus even asked Hera for a dance, which she accepted with obvious surprise. One dance turned into several in a row. Zeb watched them closely, his heart aching, but with a small smile on his face as Kallus stumbled a little in his attempt to keep up with the upbeat number. 

When the upbeat number wound down and something softer began to play, Zeb seized his moment and surged out of his chair. Suddenly, his armour felt cumbersome and heavy, but it didn't stop him from closing the distance between himself and Kallus.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Kallus blinked at him with incomprehension for a short moment. Clearly, he was somewhat disoriented from dancing. His face was warm from the exertion and a bead of sweat clung to his temple. But then his expression cleared and he inclined his head in understanding, stepping away, murmuring, "Of course. Hera, it was a pleasure."

Zeb captured his wrist before the man could move too far out of reach and tugged him back gently, stating, "I meant _you_. Us."

Kallus almost tripped over his own feet.

Zeb steadied him automatically, one hand reaching for his waist and the other repositioning the hand in his grasp. A shaking breath escaped Kallus. Zeb could smell his nerves, a growing hint of fear. And something else. Something softer, something subtler. Something he'd smelled before but hadn't noticed until now, now that he was looking for it. Something that made his own breath catch in his chest as Kallus allowed himself to be pulled closer, almost right up against him. Zeb couldn't stop a pleased rumble from escaping.

"Garazeb," Kallus whispered. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as something akin to pleasure flickered across his features for an instant. A moment later, something closer to pain took its place.

"Dance with me," Zeb urged softly, tilting his head to press their brows together.

"We shouldn't."

"I don't care about the shouldn'ts. I want this. Don't ya want it too?"

"Yes," Kallus answered through a tremulous huff of laughter, his free hand sliding up to rest against his upper arm. Just below his spaulder. His fingers were warm and strong and didn't show an ounce of the nerves that his voice carried. "I do. Of course, I do."

Grinning, Zeb straightened and took the first step, moving forward even as Kallus followed his lead and stepped back. Their movements were easy, fluid. It was as though the pair of them had spent a lifetime dancing with each other. And perhaps that was true, Zeb thought as he remembered hours of sparring, of fluid movements and controlled energy, of learning how each other moved and behaved. 

Zeb and Kallus moved across the dance floor, rotating in time with the music. During one of their rotations, Zeb spotted Sabine elbowing her wife and pointing at him excitedly, and he almost shook his head at her antics before a pleased sigh from Kallus recaptured his attention.

"You're a better dancer than I expected."

"I had to make a good impression at all the galas," Zeb answered easily, easing Kallus just a fraction closer, his hand shifting to the small of his back. Their chests brushed together with each breath now, soft and teasing, a hint of something much more exquisite. "Couldn't let the Queen down."

Kallus gazed up at him as one slow waltz moved into another, allowing their dance to continue uninterrupted. Like a pool of honey, soft and warm and inviting, his gaze glowed under the lights around them. Kallus was stunning, more so than he'd ever seen him before.

"Beautiful." The word was out before Zeb could stop it. Swallowing thickly, his heart pounding, Zeb pushed himself to add quietly, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I can't stop lookin' at ya. I never could."

Kallus stopped moving, too surprised to tense up.

Zeb caressed the small of his back lightly, the claw of his thumb catching against the laces. It reminded him of just how little effort it would take to strip the man down to nothing. It also seemed to dawn on Kallus, whose cheeks warmed even as his pupils widened once more. 

Those tempting lips parted. 

Zeb slid his hand along his arm slowly, but deliberately, giving him ample warning that something was coming. That something was about to change between them. His hand soon found the back of his head. Zeb cradled Kallus gently, almost tenderly, and watched as those lashes fluttered closed.

Wetting his lips with a quick sweep of his tongue, Zeb leaned down until he could feel Kallus' warm breath quivering against his lips, highlighting his nerves and anticipation in equal measure. So close. He was so close. Zeb sighed in contentment and closed that final distance — to find Kallus pulling away, a heartbroken expression flickering across his features an instant before the man turned and fled. 

Zeb didn't hesitate to go after him. He followed him out into the gardens and quickened his pace to cut off his escape, throwing himself between Kallus and his path. Something in his chest cracked when he saw tears shimmering in the moonlight. Zeb seized him immediately, driving him back against the nearest pillar and pinning him there, heedless of the flowers and leaves from the surrounding plants poking into uncomfortable places.

"Tell me I didn't misread the signs tonight."

"Garazeb —"

"Tell me!"

"You didn't." Kallus' face crumpled with inexplicable emotion. "You didn't misread them."

"Ya want me."

"Yes," Kallus whispered raggedly, his gaze dropping, avoiding Zeb. "I do."

"But ya don't want to be with me."

"I do!" Kallus' gaze snapped back up, his expression injured. "I do want that. I've wanted that for so long, but I _can't_."

"Because I'm an alien?"

"No!" 

"Then why?!"

"Because I don't deserve it!"

Kallus covered his mouth as soon as the words escaped and he tried to turn away, to hide himself away, those shimmering tears slipping free at last. Zeb didn't let him turn away, didn't let him hide. He seized Kallus' hand and pulled it away, allowing the fingers of his other hand to capture his chin.

"Talk to me," Zeb said quietly, his voice soft and his gaze softer. His fingers moved from his chin to his cheek and Kallus' tears seemed to double in strength in an instant. "Tell me where this feelin' came from. 'Cause I thought we were past what happened on Lasan."

"So did I." Kallus choked on heartbroken laughter. His fingers curled around a fistful of his surcoat and gripped tightly, as though afraid Zeb might disappear if he let go. Zeb stepped closer, drawing the man into his arms immediately, holding him close as Kallus clung to him. He couldn't help nuzzling his hair as Kallus went on to say, "I couldn't believe the warm welcome I received when we first landed on Lira San. How pleased those Lasats were to see me. It shocked me. It gave me hope. I started to think it was the fresh start I'd been looking for. I started to think I could dare to make a move. When we were walking through the market that first day, I started making plans. Dinner, and a show perhaps, and then I'd…"

Kallus' voice cracked with emotion and his words faltered. 

Zeb carded a gentle hand through his hair, his touch soft and encouraging.

Kallus dragged in a breath and tried again.

"And then I'd show how I feel. In bed. With you." Kallus' voice shook with each word that escaped. "But then a survivor from Lasan accosted us before we'd even reached the house. Accosted _me_. You looked so ashamed and so guilty, and I was reminded that I don't get a fresh start. I don't get to be with the man I love. Because I'd never stop being the man that helped wipe out his people."

Zeb drew back abruptly, his heart in his throat.

"Ya love me," Zeb croaked as his throat tightened.

"Of course, I do." Kallus blinked at him through his tears and then choked on another small bubble of laughter, one filled with so much warmth and fondness. "How could I not? You're wonderful."

"I love ya too. Ya fuckin' idiot." Zeb cradled his face with both hands, heedless of the tears soaking into his fur. He crushed their brows together and gasped in a desperate breath of warmth and salt. "I wasn't ashamed of ya! I was never ashamed of ya. Not once! I was upset that Chava lied to me about the reception we'd receive. She said she'd speak with the survivors, that she'd help smooth things out before we arrived! She said it would be fine! I was ashamed that I'd passed on the same lie to ya!"

A broken noise escaped Kallus.

Zeb made his move before the man could dare to think of speaking and kissed him roughly, earning another broken noise from Kallus, whose lips parted in an instant to welcome him. The first thrust of his tongue wasn't gentle. It wasn't tender. It was demanding, filled with passion and anger, a desperate need and so much regret.

It tasted of ale and Kallus' tears.

It wasn't long until Zeb hiked Kallus up against the pillar, those long legs gripping him tight. One pale hand scrabbled for purchase against the pillar and the other slid upwards to grip one of his ears hard. Zeb grunted in pleasure, his hips snapping forward abruptly, their kiss breaking as Kallus tossed his head back and groaned at the sensation between their hips.

" _Fuck_." 

"That's the idea," Zeb murmured as he began trailing kisses along the curve of his jaw before catching one of those delicate ears between his teeth. Kallus groaned again. His lips curling around a triumphant grin, Zeb stepped back from the pillar and turned towards the doors leading back into the banquet hall.

"You should put me down before we go in."

"No," Zeb answered simply, snaring him in another deep, rough kiss that left Kallus panting in his arms as he pinned him against the door for a moment and searched for the handle with one hand. Zeb stumbled into the banquet hall with his prize less than a moment later. "I don't care who sees us. I don't care who has their hopes dashed. I want them all to know our intentions. I want them all to know you're _mine_. And I'm _yours_."

Several people whistled and cheered at the sight of them.

Kallus buried his face in his neck and laughed with surprised embarrassment.

Zeb chuckled warmly, nuzzling his hair, and then snorted when he spotted Rau and Rex exchanging credits. The former looked as triumphant as Zeb felt. Zeb waved at the pair of them as he hurried by, and then had to catch his balance against the wall as Kallus began mouthing at the underside of his jaw, teeth scraping against his skin.

A rumbling growl escaped him.

Zeb quickened his pace and slipped out through the next set of double doors. It wasn't long until he had Kallus moaning against the wall of the elevator, hips rocking, long fingers fisting his fur, as Zeb teased the delicate skin of his neck with his fangs. Zeb lost count of the surfaces he'd pressed Kallus against before reaching their room at last.

"How are we doin' this," Zeb asked when his shins bumped against the nearest bed and he lost his balance. He braced a quick hand against the bed to slow their descent before blanketing Kallus completely, the man almost disappearing beneath the girth of his frame. He ran gentle fingers through soft hair and felt his heart twist when Kallus gazed up at him through his lashes, soft and sultry, but flushed from their passion as well. "Ya got preferences?"

"Yes," Kallus breathed. "I know what I want."

"Tell me."

"I'd rather make it a demonstration." Kallus chuckled softly, his tears from earlier a distant memory, and then slid his hands down to the ornate belt keeping his surcoat cinched to his waist. His lips curled around a soft smirk for a moment before those damnable teeth began to tease his lower lip. "But first…strip for me."

His hands shaking, Zeb drew back and unbuckled the belt. He let it fall over the side of the bed. Swallowing thickly, Zeb began removing the various pieces of his armour under the heated gaze of Kallus, who made his appreciation known through gentle hums of encouragement and the idle stroke of strong fingers along his thighs.

It was new, being watched like this. Being studied and encouraged. 

Usually, it was him leading his partners.

Having the tables turned now was unexpected and surprising, but not unwelcome. It wasn't unpleasant. Truthfully, Zeb realised it was so much more than pleasant when he slipped his surcoat and tunic over his head in one sweep and tossed them aside as Kallus breathed softly, "Perfect."

Zeb felt his breath catch as Kallus gazed at his torso, almost mesmerised. Those strong fingers slid upwards to graze his abdomen. His muscles twitched away, and then relaxed into his touch a moment later, welcoming the caress. Zeb crushed his lashes against his cheeks and exhaled raggedly, his cock emerging from its sheath in a few short seconds.

His head swam for a moment from the sudden rush.

Another moment passed before Kallus said softly, "Look at me."

Zeb looked at him immediately, unable to stop a small whine from escaping as Kallus smiled warmly, his gaze soft with approval and indulgence. His cock pulsed in its confines. He didn't realise he was panting until Kallus reached for the waistband of his leggings and boxers, pushing them down over his hips with care, revealing his cock at last. 

Part of him still expected his new lover to be surprised — to gasp at the difference in their anatomy, but Kallus was the one that surprised him with an easy, but deliberate stroke of his cock.

Zeb shivered and sighed in pleasure. His ears twitched and wiggled. His hips rocked automatically, eagerly, welcoming the slick slide of his cock between the curl of those fingers.

"Gorgeous," Kallus breathed through a small sigh of his own. And then he pulled his hand away, chuckling when Zeb tried to follow. Kallus swatted his hip, murmuring, "Let me up. I need to get a few things."

Zeb couldn't help growling, feeling both robbed and curious simultaneously, but he complied without argument. He shuffled back awkwardly, tangled up in his leggings, and flopped onto his back as soon as Kallus left the bed. He watched the man go, watched him lean over the other bed and search through his bag, watched his trousers pull tight across his firm backside. His hands twitched with the urge to reach out and grab, to pull the man down upon his lap. Zeb growled again.

Kallus glanced over his shoulder and arched a brow, admonishing him without speaking a word. When he turned to face Zeb, he had a dildo in one hand and a cock ring in the other.

"That won't fit me."

"I know." Kallus huffed in amusement. His gaze glittered with it. A small smile curled his lips. "The ring is for me, you dolt. Unlike some people, I don't get to come more than once. I want to last."

"Ya planned for somethin' like this?"

"I'd planned to have sex with someone tonight. But I didn't expect it to be us," Kallus answered gently, returning to sit at the edge of the bed. He set the items he'd retrieved on the bedside locker and gazed down at Zeb. Seeming both sad and happy, Kallus reached out and cupped his cheek tenderly, stroking his thumb across the ridge. "Does that upset you?"

"No." Zeb leaned into Kallus' palm. "I'm just glad it ended up bein' me." 

Kallus smiled and his sadness melted away, leaving him warm and soft and happy, and Zeb wanted nothing more than to pull the man into his arms and hold him close. He got his wish moments later when Kallus leaned down to kiss him deeply, slowly, and luxuriously, earning a faint whimper of need from him.

Zeb couldn't help himself.

Kallus broke their kiss with a soft laugh as he flailed against Zeb, struggling to find his balance. Finally, the man found his equilibrium and settled between his legs, hips nestled between his thighs snuggly; his trousers soon showed the evidence of their mutual desire as Kallus ground their hips together. He kissed Zeb again and again before whispering, "We're still wearing too much clothes."

"Then do somethin' about it."

"I intend to," Kallus murmured against his lips before pulling away, sitting back on his knees. His hands found the waistband of his leggings and boxers a moment later and he whisked them off with ease, smirking as Zeb shivered with anticipation and stared at Kallus' clothes.

Kallus began undressing himself then.

Zeb watched as Kallus reached back and tugged at the knot securing his laces, letting his frame relax with a sigh. He watched as those long fingers came back around to undo the hooks fastening the front of his corset vest. He swallowed as Kallus met his gaze, smirk deepening with each hook that popped open to reveal his white shirt — almost transparent in the light around them.

A ragged noise escaped him when he spotted the shadow of his nipples, hard and eager, pushing against the fabric of his shirt. Kallus' nipples seemed to beg for attention and Zeb wanted to give it to them. He wanted to rip through the shirt with his claws and pin Kallus to the bed. He wanted to tease and torture those nipples with his fingers, his tongue, his teeth. He wanted Kallus to squirm and writhe and beg for more, harder and rougher, please.

As though he knew what Zeb was thinking, Kallus released a fond chuckle and said softly, "You can take charge in the morning, love, but tonight is mine."

Fortunately, Kallus didn't take as long with his shirt and tie. Those came off quickly, and the shirt was soon abandoned. The tie, however, remained clutched in Kallus' hands as the man studied him for a moment that seemed to stretch forever. 

Zeb wetted his lips. 

His cock twitched.

"Hands on the pillow," Kallus said finally, gaze darkening. "Wrists together."

Zeb couldn't help noticing the tent in his trousers, how it twitched under his gaze, as eager to be released as Zeb was eager to release it. Kallus swatted his thigh to recapture his wandering attention and remind him of the instruction he'd been given a moment ago. Zeb hastened to comply, hands shaking, heart in his throat.

Kallus leaned forward and bound his wrists together quickly, but loosely, a simple reminder of the power structure developing between them. Both of them knew Zeb could free himself in a heartbeat. But that didn't seem to matter as their gazes met. Zeb shivered and Kallus kissed him roughly, though his hand was gentle as it captured his face and held him still.

Zeb was squirming with need long before Kallus deigned to continue moving, bringing his lips lower and lower, mouthing at the underside of his jaw before assaulting the arch of his neck with his teeth. His teeth weren't gentle. Not at all. No, his teeth were hard and sharp, digging deep, almost threatening to break skin.

It was exquisite. 

It was just the right amount of pressure to get his blood going, to have him moaning and growling, rocking his hips as pleasure sparked through him. And it was just the right amount of pressure to mark him as Kallus' lover. His mate. Zeb hadn't told him about claiming marks — he'd never had reason to until now.

Kallus must have learned about them on Lira San. 

The thought of Kallus learning about his people, his culture, while still thinking the pair of them could never be together, made him whine. 

"Hush." Kallus returned to kiss his lips briefly, the slick press of his tongue gentle and deep, soothing him. Gentle fingers caressed his ears, moving from base to tip deliberately, teasing and torturing him in the same sweep. It wasn't long until Zeb was shaking, his vision blurring, pleasure coiling deep in his gut. Kallus feathered kisses across his face, taking a moment to linger over his lashes, tasting his tears with a gentle lap of his tongue. "You're so sensitive," Kallus breathed softly, marvelling down at him.

"Kal —"

"Sasha," Kallus murmured as he silenced him with a gentle press of his finger. He gazed down at him warmly, his expression verging on adoration. "You can call me Sasha."

"Ya say that to all the boys?"

"No," Kallus — _Sasha_ — answered softly, a smile curling his lips. Sasha continued to tease his ears, his touch much gentler now, keeping him close to the edge and never letting him fall over. "Just you. The others called me _Sir_. You're special."

Sasha kissed the nip of his nose and then abandoned his ears. He chuckled when Zeb tried to follow him automatically, craving so much more. A gentle hand against his sternum pushed him back down against the bed.

"So needy, love. I think I'll have to do something about that."

" _Please_."

"Such good manners," Sasha mused as he shuffled further down the bed slowly, his lips and hands making his approval known with soft kisses and caresses. An adoring smile was visible when Zeb dared to lift his head and watch his descent down the length of his body, past his belly, to the growing mess between his quivering thighs. Sasha didn't seem to care about the slick sticking to his fur as the man nuzzled one thigh and then the other, mingling their scents together, and transferring some slick to his own mutton chops in the process.

Seeing that dark red hair mussed with his slick was almost too much for Zeb, who dropped his head immediately, lashes fluttering, heart pounding, and hips twisting up from the bed in an unspoken plea. It was answered a moment later when Sasha pressed his hips back down to the bed and swallowed him in one smooth motion.

Zeb moaned loudly, the sound rumbling up from his chest. He soon lost himself to the sound of soft sucking, to the sensation of lips sliding up and down his cock easily, so easily, as though Sasha had sucked him a thousand times before. His hands clenched and unclenched as Sasha took him into his throat several times in a row, humming deeply, as though Zeb were the finest thing he'd ever tasted.

The pleasure coiling in his gut wound tighter and tighter and extended further, almost merging with the base of his cock. It wouldn't be long, Zeb knew; the small nubs dotted along the length of his cock were inflating already, growing into soft spines, demanding more and more attention.

He was gone the moment a tooth grazed against one of them.

Zeb came with a strangled cry, his frame tensing hard and then jerking, a strong hand gripping his hip and forcing him as still as he could manage in the throes of his orgasm. Sasha pulled back quickly, face flushed and gaze hungry, lips swollen from his efforts. His free hand stroked him through his orgasm as Sasha murmured soft words of approval against the bend of his knee. Zeb writhed beneath his touch as he spilled and spilled over the curl of his fist.

He was soon limp, but for that one part of him that still hungered. 

He struggled to keep his lashes from fluttering as Sasha eased his thighs further apart and nudged his knees higher with a gentle hand. He struggled to lift his head. He struggled to watch as his love, his Sasha, reached down and unfastened his own trousers and drew his cock out.

But he couldn't hold his head up for another moment.

His lashes did flutter then. His ears wiggled and his toes curled. His claws ripped through the blankets and Sasha chuckled before taking advantage of his limp body, pressing two slick fingers deep.

A whine caught in his throat.

It was too much.

And it wasn't enough.

Sasha leaned over him and kissed him sweetly, claiming his mouth with the same speed and pressure as his fingers below. Zeb melted against him instinctively, opening up easily, welcoming him with a sigh. Sasha broke their kiss to murmur his approval and encouragement against his lips several times, his words growing more fervent with each thrust of his fingers.

Sasha was soon pressing something else inside him. Momentarily, Zeb thought it was his cock before he remembered the dildo on the bedside locker and he couldn't help whimpering, clenching around the intrusion just as the tight curl of Sasha's fingers met his backside.

Slowly, carefully, Sasha drew the dildo back several inches and then eased it back inside, each glorious inch a whirlwind of sensation. Zeb shivered and rocked his hips instinctively, meeting that slow thrust. One of his claws ripped through the pillow as he tried to find purchase despite his bound wrists. Sasha continued to feather his face with soft kisses as he fucked him with the dildo clutched in his hand.

Sasha's hips rolled between his thighs, following the movement of his hand and allowing his cock to stroke against his fur. The brush of those strong hips along his inner thighs and the sensitive skin there added to the building sensations within Zeb, and allowed him to imagine it wasn't a dildo thrusting deep, but Sasha himself.

The thought earned a low moan.

"You're so gorgeous like this," Sasha panted against his lips between kisses, a faint tremble in the arm holding him up. His moan turned into a soft whimper and Sasha chuckled breathlessly, the pace of his hand and hips quickening, strengthening. Zeb hiked his thighs higher, pulling him closer, almost engulfing him with his legs. His toes pressed hard into Sasha's backside, claws threatening to rip the man's trousers. Sasha seemed pleased. "You're so desperate for me, love. Just how I like it."

"Sasha," Zeb gasped as his lover shifted the angle of his hand and ground the dildo against his prostate, that sweet bundle of nerves inside him. Waves of pleasure crashed through him as Sasha continued to assault that spot with each thrust of his hand. "I...I need —"

"Tell me." Sasha drew back slightly, enough to look at him even as he continued to move, torturing them both in the same sweep. "Zeb, love, my love, tell me."

"Bite me," Zeb groaned. He turned his head and offered his neck eagerly, offered the side that hadn't been marked earlier. His cock pulsed hot between them at the thought of Sasha biting down and making another mark. Another, and another, until he was covered with them. "Please, just...just fuckin' bite me!"

Sasha didn't hesitate to lunge forward and clamp down on his neck.

Zeb didn't fight the ecstasy, his second orgasm shooting through him like lightning. He choked on a sob as he clenched hard around the dildo buried inside him and spilled between the press of their hips, staining flushed skin and fur. His claws did rip through Sasha's trousers then. Not to mention his underwear. Sasha didn't seem to care as he continued to fuck Zeb through his ecstasy, milking as much from him as possible.

Zeb panted heavily, his blood thundering in his ears, and his muscles beginning to ache. He sprawled loosely, legs falling open tiredly, releasing Sasha from his desperate clutches. His lashes fluttered closed as he luxuriated in the last few thrusts before Sasha eased the dildo back out. His lashes snapped back open when Sasha left the bed.

But he needn't have worried.

Sasha didn't move far from the bed — just enough to drop his ruined trousers and underwear, stepping out of them. The fingers of one hand dropped down to massage his bad leg, just above his knee. Sasha grimaced.

"Ya hurtin'?" Zeb managed to voice his concern despite the warm fuzziness winding through his limbs in the wake of his second orgasm. He reached out and brushed a sweat-damp arm with his fingertips. "Do we need to stop?"

"No," Sasha answered firmly, raking a quick hand back through his messy, sweat-damp hair. He leaned down to give Zeb a quick kiss on the nose and then smiled mischievously, his pleasure-darkened gaze twinkling as he stroked one of his ears with gentle fingers. "Just a little discomfort. But even if I was hurting, I'd still keep going until the end. You're worth it."

Zeb couldn't help the contented purr that rumbled up from his chest.

Sasha climbed back onto the bed and straddled him in one fluid motion.

Zeb sighed as the extra weight settled over him just right. Teasing him with unspoken promises. His lids heavy, he watched his lover brace a hand against his chest and lean forward as Sasha reached behind himself. His cock pulsed with need when he realised Sasha wasn't pushing fingers in. He was taking something out — a long, thick purple plug an inch thinner than Zeb, its length slick and shining with lube.

"Ashla," Zeb choked and a moment later he'd freed himself from the tie binding his wrists together, heedless of the ache in his shoulders and upper arms. Sasha didn't have a chance to gasp before Zeb was sitting up and kissing him roughly, one hand tangling in his hair and the other hot and possessive against the small of his back as he crushed Sasha against him. "Did ya think of me," Zeb rasped between hungry, frantic kisses that had Sasha whimpering, "while sinkin' down on that plug? Every time it moved inside ya, slidin' and pressin' against all the places I should be pressin' against."

"Yes," Sasha gasped against his mouth and arched against him so sweetly, leaning into the fur on his chest. His fingers grew slack around the plug and it slipped from his grasp, dropping to the floor, nestling among their abandoned clothes. "I think of that all the time."

Zeb growled in approval.

Sasha remembered what he was doing and shoved him back down on the bed a moment later, earning a faint chuckle of amused fondness and appreciation. A determined gleam shone in his gaze. Sasha braced himself against his chest with one hand and reached for his throbbing, aching cock with the other, holding him in position as he sank down and groaned at the extra stretch. His head fell back and his lips parted. His apple bobbed in his throat. Sasha was stunning, his skin rosy, flushed with pleasure and exertion.

"Touch me," Sasha breathed as he began rocking his hips lightly, sliding an inch or so up before letting his weight drag him back down. The hand that had steadied his cock grabbed his hand now and guided it to his thigh. Sasha encouraged him to squeeze his thigh. "Hold me, love."

Zeb sighed around a curse and then brought his other hand up to mirror his grasp on the other side. He slid his hands around to grip that firm backside instead. His claws teased the vulnerable skin there and Sasha shivered on his lap, inner muscles squeezing, pulling a strangled gasp from Zeb.

Sasha didn't rush their pleasure. No, his movements were steady, deliberate, both hands trailing through his fur. His fingertips traced the contours of his muscles, grazed his nipples, and slid upwards to tease the marks on his neck. His inner muscles squeezed and relaxed around his cock in a torturous pattern as Sasha rose and fell on his lap, rising higher and falling deeper with each roll of his strong hips.

The soft slap of their flesh and the slick sound of their union punctuated each low moan that escaped Sasha as the man bowed his head and arched his back lightly, shifting the angle of his hips. His fingertips skimmed low over his belly, pressing tender affection into the scattering of scars that spoke of the long, gruelling war Zeb had survived.

Zeb whimpered and sighed beneath him. A contented rumble developed deep in his chest and didn't stop. It strengthened as waves of soft pleasure rolled through him. He felt his knot starting to swell at the base of his cock — answering the encouragement from each slide and squeeze Sasha gave — and tried to gasp a warning, but Sasha knew it was coming and moaned lewdly, pressing down with determination.

Sasha cursed and tensed as Zeb's knot swelled rapidly, eager to lock their bodies together. His lips parted around a silent scream as it stretched him to his limit. And then he choked on an unexpected sob of pleasure as it reached its fullness, sealing them together. Sasha started shaking immediately, tears spilling.

His heart skipping beats, and his head almost woozy, Zeb sat up carefully, winding his arms around him and cradling him close. He feathered kisses across his face, tasting the salt of his tears for the second time that night.

Sasha clung to him in return.

Slowly, Zeb eased them around and pressed his lover into the bed. He blanketed him completely, but for those long legs that wound tight around him. Trembling feet crossed across the small of his back. Gently, Zeb ground himself against his lover, stimulating them both with the careful press of his knot.

Zeb and Sasha panted together, sharing breaths, lips grazing in weak kisses. Both of them whispered and gasped sweet nothings, running shaking hands over the other as their pleasure continued to ramp up.

"M'close," gasped Zeb, sweat tickling beneath his fur. "M'so fuckin' close."

"Zeb," Sasha whimpered against lips, lashes fluttering. "Open it."

Zeb retracted his claws with enormous effort and reached between them to snap the cock ring open. He tossed it aside with a growl and Sasha sobbed less than a moment later, spilling untouched between them. Zeb followed him over the edge not long after, fangs clamping hard around the nearest shoulder instinctively, earning a strangled shout of ecstasy, Sasha arching against him. 

A lifetime seemed to pass as Zeb and Sasha came down from their high together, both of them shaking like leaves in the trees, fragile.

"I should clean up," Sasha mumbled sometime later, sleepy, limbs now loose.

"Nah." Zeb kissed his bruising mark and then feathered a few kisses across his slack face, nuzzling his mutton chops in the process. "Ya took good care of me tonight. Let me clean up, darlin'." 

A soft smile curled kiss-bruised lips as Zeb extricated himself from the bed.

"Darling," Sasha mumbled almost to himself. He turned over sleepily, fingers curling around the ruined pillow as he shuffled closer to the wall — making room for his return. "I like that." 

Zeb shook his head in fond amusement and then disappeared into the refresher, wetting a pair of cloths with warm water and squeezing. He returned to the bedroom a few moments later and took gentle care of his love, his darling, smiling when Sasha released a sleepy, contented hum. He cleaned himself up and tossed the cloths back into the refresher before climbing in behind Sasha and nestling close, kissing his mark once more.

Sasha snared his hand and tugged it close to his heart. Doing so enveloped him in his embrace automatically, and the pair of them sighed as one.

"I should thank the ISB," Sasha mumbled into the ruined pillow, sounding sleepier than ever, so close to nodding off. "Those fucking machines we used for training were a great investment."

Zeb choked on a mouthful of sweat-damp hair and gasped raggedly, "What?!"

Sasha answered him with the sound of soft snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free stop by on [tumblr](https://rachaelkelleher.tumblr.com/) or [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/pocket_scribbles/)


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